


Shared Secret

by Insomniacghostie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, One Shot, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:15:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24616663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Insomniacghostie/pseuds/Insomniacghostie
Summary: A short one-shot I've had in mind for a while, but finally wrote out today. Trans people exist and we take nothing from anyone to do so.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 20





	Shared Secret

**Author's Note:**

> This is definitely a response to She Who Must Not Be Named, whose canon I am working around. In my head, Hermione has been trans for a long time. I also love the idea of trans Snape, but mostly because I'm a trans dude and I love him a lot. 
> 
> Anyone reading this who reads my other work, A Matter of Time: it is not abandoned, new chapters are currently being worked on. I'm sorry it's taken this long.
> 
> If you're reading this because you're trans and you've been hurt by the author herself, know that i love you and support you and you are incredibly valid.

She sat on the floor in the entryway, taking breaths far too steady for how quickly her mind was speeding. Her professor would be there any moment to take her to safety, to ensure the effectiveness of what she had done. How thoroughly she had erased her family’s existence away.

She heard a loud crack and quickly stood with her wand pointed at the door. Just because she was expecting someone did not mean it wasn’t an enemy. She could see the rough shape of her professor through the glass in the front door, frosted for privacy. The paleness of his face a blob in the middle of blackness. She swallowed down her anxiety even further as a soft knock rapped on the door.

“Tell me what you brewed my second year before the mandrake droughts,” Hermione called out. 

“An antidote to Polyjuice potion contaminated by animal hair,” his deep voice responded smoothly. He paused before asking his own question. “Who set my robes on fire in your first year?”

Her lips quirked into a shaky smile on reflex.

“Me,” she said, opening the door and ushering him in quickly while eyeing the space behind him. No sign of nosy neighbors or any interlopers. She shut the door and leaned against it regardless.

Severus Snape stood in the entryway, eyeing the immaculate house with a slight sneer. Any other expression would have looked out of place, she imagined. Her turned to her without a word, and she focused again on why he was there.

“They’re upstairs in bed. Luggage packed and they’ll be headed off out of country in the morning. They-- they’ve never had a daughter,” she said, surprising herself with how little she choked on the words. Her eyes were beginning to water again but she wiped the tears away stubbornly. Snape nodded only once and headed upstairs to check her wandwork. Any cracks and they could very well remember everything she worked so hard to conceal at any moment and come back to England, putting themselves back in harm’s way.

She elected to remain downstairs, holding onto her bag for dear life. She had put an expansion charm on it back during the school year, and it quite easily held all her things within it. Everything, of course, except her cat, who rested in his carrier at her feet. She’d managed to get him to take a small amount of a sleeping potion that was safe for cats, to make transport easier.   
“You’ve done well, Miss Granger,” Snape said as he descended the steps, his expression mildly annoyed. She could have smirked at that too, but it seemed it wouldn’t happen a second time. He finally seemed to really eye her, and frowned.

“Where are your things?” he asked, and she held up the bag. 

“All in here, all ready to go,” she said, frowning herself. Well, not entirely ready to go. There was still an issue she couldn’t figure out how to fix.

“What is it, Miss Granger?” Snape asked, drawing her back out of her thoughts. She realized she had been biting her lip again. Her throat suddenly felt dry.

For all that Hermione loved to study, and as much as she strove to learn about the wizarding world, there was always one area she had been far too terrified to look into-- transgender wix. 

She had come out as a girl to her parents at quite a young age. She’d insisted Sebastian was the wrong thing to call her from the age of five, and by age six they had decided on Hermione, and she entered primary school as such. Her parents, lovely and dear and thankfully very accepting, had fought long and hard for her to be accepted as her genuine self and to live without worry. Just before Hogwarts, they took her to the doctor and she was able to start puberty blockers. And just before she turned fourteen, through her parents’ insistence of their permission, she had truly started hormone therapy.

And without her parents’ continued expressed permission at her required doctor’s appointments, she wouldn’t be able to continue it.

She knew wizards were terribly behind the times on a great many subjects, and if the muggles who found out about her identity when she was eight (and caused such a commotion that she had to switch schools) were so terrible about it, she could only imagine how wizards could be. After all, she was already fairly well hated for being born to muggles. Being born the wrong gender could possibly be worse.

“Granger, we do not have the time for you to stand there zoning out. Tell me or--” 

“I can’t continue my hormones.”

Snape blinked rapidly when she cut him off, finally using her voice after failing to on a couple of tries. Her entire face was flushed, down her neck, but she stared him down regardless. Her chin jutted out defiantly, but mostly to keep her lip from wobbling with the tears she continuously wanted to shed.

“Your… hormones?” he asked, narrowing his eyes. Hermione nodded once.

“Yes. I- I’m a transgender woman. I have to take pills to adjust my body to where it should be,  
She explained, still not looking away. His eyes widened, and she tensed in preparation for another transphobic tirade from a teacher.

“And you’ve been relying on your parents sending you the pills this whole time, haven’t you? I see. That will not be a problem,” he said, sighing deeply. It was Hermione’s turn to widen her eyes as she gaped at him. It was going to be that simple?

“Sir?” she asked, feeling rather stupid as he raised an eyebrow at her.

“There are potions for that, you know. I’ll send them to you at the Headquarters. We can discuss this further there, we really ought to get moving--”

“I can’t discuss it there! They-- none of them know,” she cut him off, panic once again bubbling in her chest. Snape may have been accepting but he was essentially a chemist or pharmacist for wizards, perhaps he considered it more scientifically. He eyed her with no small amount of sympathy, before he took in a deep breath.

“I see. They don’t know about me, either,” he said softly, and Hermione nearly collapsed at that revelation.

“You’re…?” she whispered, and he gave a curt nod.

“That stays between us, forgotten in this house. Do you understand?” he asked, giving his most frightful face, and she nodded quickly. Her head was still spinning.

“I will not mention it in front of those dunderheads. I cannot speak for Potter, who was raised with atrocious muggles, but the Weasley’s… they would be very accepting. Trust me. The wizarding world is a fair bit absurd, but body modification is relatively accepted and far more comfortable than muggle means, as I’ve come to learn. I will send you the appropriate potions, it will be up to you to tell the others what they are, if they see them,” he explained further, face softening. 

Hermione felt like the floor had dropped out from under her. She had been carrying that secret for sixteen years, had spent her entire time in the wizarding world concealing her mail and being so damn careful to never be in the showers when anyone else was around, to never be vulnerable to anyone figuring out her secret. It was as if a weight had lifted from her chest to know that she was not alone. Even if the only other person she knew was also transgender had been a bastard to her most of her life.

“Thank you very much, sir. I-- I really don’t know how to thank you,” she said, realizing the tears she had been trying to hold back had finally started to fall. He looked away, pale cheeks tinged pink.

“There is no need to thank me. Now grab your cat and take my arm, it’s time we leave,” he ordered, barking it out as if to re-establish himself. Hermione did as she was told, not wanting to annoy him after he had been so kind and vulnerable to her. They left with a loud crack, landing down the street from Grimmauld Place. 

On the doorstep, Snape gave her a significant glare to remind her not to mention his secret, but he needn’t have bothered. She would carry that secret to her grave.


End file.
